


Second Chances

by Thrace Addicted (Amidala_Thrace)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-31
Updated: 2010-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amidala_Thrace/pseuds/Thrace%20Addicted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your second chance is sitting right in front of you. What are you going to do with it? Are you going to ignore it because of some phantom guilt complex or …"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> Missing scene taking place between the Season 4.0 episodes "He That Believeth In Me" and "Six of One." This was supposed to be a simple PWP (Porn Without Plot) piece but instead grew into the monstrosity you see below. It's AU to the extent that the events portrayed here weren't shown on screen, but I like to believe they happened. Written for the fanfic50 prompt #043 Redo and originally posted April 24, 2008.

_She's alive._

Lee didn't remember landing his Viper. He barely remembered the battle. He had vague recollections of shooting at anything Cylon that moved, and of dipping and dodging through the lancets of fire to keep up with Kara – _Lords, please don't let me lose her again_ – and finally, as the Cylons inexplicably retreated, landing on the hangar deck with a loud bang. Any other day, he might have cared about how sloppily he'd come down.

Now, all he could think about was her.

Had she really come back?

Lee hurried through the steps on his postflight checklist, popping the top of his Viper as he saw her doing just up ahead. He was momentarily paralyzed.

It _was_ her. It was Kara.

He could just see the top of her blonde head emerging from the cockpit, and although she looked a little more ragged, a bit more somber than he remembered, she was still Kara. Those hazel eyes, darting quickly around the hangar deck and taking in the crowd beginning to gather at the foot of her Viper. The way she carried herself, the way she was clambering out of the cockpit with that swagger Lee loved so much … they were all the same.

As he climbed out of his own cockpit, Lee was seized by a desire to hurry up to Kara and embrace her. The thought of how much he had missed her squashed the breath from his lungs. And really, why should propriety be his first concern? She'd been gone for two months. He had thought she would be gone _forever_.

So he found his legs carrying him across the hangar deck, and he knew he was running but did not care, and clearly she knew what he planned to do because she was opening her arms, ready to receive him …

They met.

And the universe was, for one last time, perfect.

The warm weight of Kara, nestled in his arms, was his final reassurance. Lee realized that until he held her, until he felt the beat of her heart and her breath warm on his cheek, he hadn't believed she was real. She _sounded_ real, and her voice was familiar, but he'd had his hopes dashed so many times – dreamed about her and awoken to find her gone, heard her voice running CAPs and glanced frantically around to see her missing – that he was unwilling to stake his happiness on sight alone. He needed to hold her, feel her, touch her, breathe in that unmistakable scent that said _Kara_ to him.

"Kara," Lee whispered, and found his voice choked with tears. "I missed you … _so frakking much_ …"

She was running her hands up and down his back, trying to offer comfort, trying to reassure. "Me too … it's all right, Lee, it's all right."

Clutching her to him, stroking her hair, he could almost make himself believe that. He could almost make himself believe that two months of grief and pain and emptiness hadn't happened. He could almost make himself believe that he had been mourning the death of a friend, rather than a friend _and_ a love.

Almost.

"You _died_, Kara." Lee felt ragged all over. "You frakking died, godsdamnit, and I couldn't –" He ran out of breath to speak, and simply held her tighter.

Others were approaching, Lee could sense them, and he knew the moment would soon have to end and they would break apart. Already the murmurs were starting, the cries of amazement and confusion and suspicion. Whether Kara knew it or not, Lee understood that she was facing a difficult time. He also understood that he would need to make a decision, a decision that he could stick by.

He found that he did not even have to think. Already, he knew what his choice would be.

He was going to believe.

***

Eyes.

Everywhere she went, Kara saw eyes.

And she hated it.

Eyes fixing upon her with fear, with suspicion, at times with outright hatred. She had once been comfortable walking the halls of _Galactica_ and knowing that her reputation preceded her, that no matter what people's opinions of her, they'd keep it to themselves or risk pissing off the famous Starbuck. Now, they looked upon her and didn't bother to conceal their feelings. They didn't make an effort to hide the fact that they thought she was lying.

But lying about _what?_ Kara didn't even know. For some reason, no one believed she'd only been gone six hours. To her it was self-evident. But to everyone else on _Galactica_, she'd been killed in action a full two months ago and now, for all intents and purposes, was back from the dead. Even more troubling, a good number were treating her like some sort of toaster. Even the Old Man and President Roslin didn't trust her.

It was too much.

"Frak _off!_" she screamed at the fifth person to accuse her of collaborating with the Cylons. Five people and she'd barely even gotten into the pilots' bunkroom. This was ridiculous.

Kara turned and summoned the adrenaline to run after them, make them _face_ what they'd said, but before she could, someone caught her arm. "WHAT?" she bellowed. Tried to squirm away from the hold the person had on her. Tried to ignore the fact that she was suddenly and inexplicably on the verge of tears.

"Hey. Kara. Relax, it's okay."

Lee.

"I –" she started, then had to turn abruptly against a nearby bunk and swipe at her eyes. "I'm fine. Really."

"Really? That's only about the seventeenth person whose head you've bitten off since coming back, but hey, I guess I wouldn't know."

The easy banter relaxed her somehow, and she was able to look at him, really look at him, for the first time. Her eyes raked his clothing – a simple sweater and pants. "What's with the civvies, Apollo? They finally kick you out?"

"You're changing the subject," Lee pointed out, but he was smiling. "I resigned. Handed in my wings. I decided after Baltar's trial that it just wasn't worth it anymore. And Dee divorced me … I just wanted to start a new life."

Kara blinked. "Baltar's trial? And Dee – you divorced Dee?"

Possibilities exploded inside her mind, but she pushed them aside.

"Frak, Kara." He shook his head. "I keep forgetting how much there is to catch up on."

"I just don't understand it," Kara muttered. Again she felt adrift on a sea of incomprehension. "I was gone for six hours. I _know_ I was. Check my Viper's chronometer, it'll tell you. So why is everyone acting like I died, Lee? Why?"

Lee's gaze found the floor, and she suddenly realized this was a difficult subject for him to discuss. He was searching for the right words, his eyes bright. "Because, for all intents and purposes, Kara, you _did_ die. I saw your ship explode. You told me to let you go, and your Viper blew up, right in front of me. I reported you killed in action because what else could I do? You were gone. You were gone, and we all suffered. Dad, Sam, the rest of the pilots, even Tigh." He paused. "And me. Now it's really like you're back from the dead. And people just don't know what to make of it."

"Well, what about _you?_ What do _you_ make of it?" Kara's tone sounded accusatory even to her.

"I believe you." Lee leveled a serious look right at her, a look in which she could sense no deception. "Of course there are things that don't make sense. But my opinions haven't changed."

A pause.

"None of them?" she asked.

She couldn't say why that was important. But it was.

"None of them," he confirmed.

Again, possibilities muscled into her mind, possibilities that caused her to flush red. "Thank you, Lee," Kara whispered, and she meant it sincerely. She'd been afraid of his suspicion, afraid that his hatred of Cylons would automatically put her in the category of people not to be trusted. But she could sense that everything between them was still there. Not just the trust and the friendship.

The love.

Why else would he have run – not walked or strolled, but _run_ – over to her on the hangar deck and seized her in the strongest hug she'd ever experienced?

And now he wasn't leaving.

"I'm sorry about Dee," she said, and meant that too.

Lee stuffed his hands into his pockets. "We were on the rocks already. After I agreed to defend Baltar, and he was acquitted –"

"The motherfrakker got _acquitted?_" Kara interrupted, feeling her fury flare again. "Who the frak was the jury, a group of braindead Picon sea pigs?"

"No, actually," Lee shot back, and she thought she saw a spark of anger behind his eyes as well. "My father and five other intelligent officials who could think rationally and logically. But you weren't there, you didn't bear witness to what a frakking witch hunt it turned into. The mob wanted him tortured to within an inch of his life, they wanted to fling him out the airlock and forget about him. He's a human being, Kara! A human being just like the rest of us!"

"_He left me for the Cylons!_" she bellowed. "Did that jury think it was _easy_ for me to sit in that godsforsaken detention centre and play house with Leoben? Did it think I frakking _enjoyed_ that? He _should_ have been tortured and flung out the airlock!"

"But Kara, did Baltar leave you for the Cylons, or was it really not his fault that his hands were tied when they invaded?" Lee asked quietly. "You're acting exactly like the mob. They wanted to blame him for everything. But we've all got blood on our hands. We all should be blamed. Airlocking Baltar would have been a temporary solution to a much more endemic issue."

Kara clenched her fists and flung herself down on the nearest bunk as though it too had provoked her. "Lee, you didn't have to face that skin job every day. You didn't look at a frakking fork and try to figure out whether it would be a good murder weapon. You didn't stab Leoben and sit down and eat supper with his blood still on your godsdamned hands! You didn't get presented with the living, breathing evidence that you'd been medically frakking _raped!_ And then have it all be a motherfrakking lie!"

"But Leoben did that to you. Not Baltar."

"Oh, frak _you_," she snapped, and turned to face the wall.

This was what she got for pouring her frakking heart out to him, for admitting things she'd never told anyone else before. Not even Sam. Trust Lee to dismiss her feelings.

Some things sure didn't change.

***

Lee regretted it the instant he said it. Guilt closed its cold fingers around him, and he tensed visibly.

It had obviously cost Kara to say the things she had just said. He'd known that she had suffered on New Caprica. Everyone who took up residence on that godsforsaken planet had come back scarred in some way. But Lee had never known precisely what it was about Kara's own experience that had affected her. He'd heard whispers that she was held and tortured by a Cylon, but was completely ignorant of the details.

Now, it would seem, he had them. And how did he respond? With yet another defense of Baltar, likely when Kara was least willing to hear it.

_Smooth move, Adama_, he chastised himself.

"Kara, I'm sorry," Lee said softly. "I didn't mean that, I didn't mean any of it –"

"Forget it." She kept her face in shadow, and he was surprised to hear that her voice was thick with tears. "Just forget it, all right? No one believes me, I didn't expect you to be sympathetic either. So just forget it."

He started towards the bed, wondering if it would be safe to put a hand on her shoulder, to sit next to her. "This isn't about belief, or lack of it," he ventured. "This is about you and me. I behaved badly and I know it. I had no right to say the things I said. Not to you. Not now."

When Kara didn't answer, he searched for her hand, took hold and gave it a light squeeze.

He didn't expect her to squeeze back.

"No one knew what happened on New Caprica," she whispered, and Lee had to lean forward to catch her words. "Not Sam. Not your father. I didn't intend to start talking about it like this."

Lee remembered when they used to tell each other everything, when no secret was sacred. "We all fought our own battles on that planet," he said carefully. "And they all affected us in different ways. I hate to think of you suffering in silence."

"Yeah, well, I'm a frak-up anyway," Kara said derisively. "Everyone knows that. You should know it most of all. I'm surprised you're still even talking to me."

He decided to risk sitting on the edge of the bunk. "We're friends, Kara. Nothing will ever change that."

She shook her head. "Pushing people away is my specialty, Lee. After all the crap I've pulled on you you should be running as fast as you can in the opposite direction. But you aren't."

Kara's eyes asked the unspoken question: Why?

It was a question Lee had often asked himself, and in the end, he could only ever come up with one answer. Starbuck was a pain in the neck; she always had been. A thorn in his side, forever getting on his nerves, always making him look like the straitlaced officer with a stick up his ass. He hated that, hated that she could usually bring out the worst in him. Yet he had also seen her bring out the best. He loved her fiery exterior, her pure enjoyment of life, the witty banter in which she could always engage. The Kara who'd come back now was different, more introspective, but she was still Kara. That much he knew, and that was why he trusted her.

"I told you things haven't changed," Lee said after a beat. "I still trust you. And I still love you."

There. He'd said it, gods be damned.

"You shouldn't." Her eyes were fastened on their hands, lying linked on the blanket.

"But I do. That's what love is, Kara. You love no matter what faults the other person might have."

"So that means I love you even though you're a terminal tight-ass?" she quipped.

"Something like that." Lee tried to remember whether she'd ever told him she loved him without being prodded. He couldn't think of a single instance. "You love me?"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he wondered immediately if he would frighten her off. As he had so many times before.

Kara smiled. "No takebacks, Lee."

And she kissed him.

He was momentarily shocked, but he told himself he shouldn't be surprised. This was Kara. This was the way things worked with her.

All the time, Lee was responding, deepening the kiss, reaching his fingers out to caress her cheek and parting his lips slightly, allowing her the option if she wanted it. Kara leaned towards him, on her knees, arms winding around him.

The small rack went dark, and he was momentarily startled. The curtain had been pulled closed, and she was looking at him now, a smile lighting her face. He loved that smile so much. He'd longed for it so much.

"I missed you," Lee murmured against her lips.

"Wish I could say the same, Lee, but I wasn't gone that long." She sighed. "But if I had been … I would have missed you too."

"Well, it doesn't matter now." He pulled her closer. "All that matters to me is that you're home. You're _here_."

"Yeah, so you won't have to whack off to my memory anymore," Kara said lasciviously.

"Shut up," Lee muttered, though he could feel himself hardening. He swallowed and with no small amount of resolve continued, "I _never_ did after I thought you'd been killed …"

Too late he realized what he'd said as Kara released a bark of laughter.

"_After?_ What about before, Lee? Guess that's why you liked being CAG so much, that private office had more than one benefit, didn't it?"

"Kara …" But Lee knew it was pointless; he could feel a hot blush creeping up his cheeks and realized he'd already lost.

"I used to wonder why my file was on your desk so often," she barreled on, "with the mug shot front and centre. You and your right hand were having some fun with it!"

The Starbuck glint was back in her eye. Or maybe it had never left. Either way, he knew he was screwed.

Kara's gaze was traveling down now, down over the simple sweater and towards – _Oh, frak_, Lee thought as a smile spread over her face. "Hmm," she grinned, whispering close to his ear, "seems like someone's in a mood."

"This isn't –" His mouth went dry, and he had to swallow hard. "This isn't how I meant to welcome you back."

"What if it's exactly how I _want_ to be welcomed back?" she countered.

Her voice was soft, with a breathy quality that shot straight to his groin. He wondered whether she was giving him permission, but next second had no time to contemplate the question as Kara pushed him down and found the bulge in his pants, pressing her hand over it. Lee's hips threatened to rocket off the bed at her touch, thrusting clumsily in the direction of her fingers.

"My, my, Apollo," she said cheekily. "One would almost think you wanna be frakked."

She traced lazy circles around his groin as she talked. The pressure was almost maddening.

_Stop calling me Apollo_, Lee wanted to say, but somehow the words got lost on the way to his mouth and he squeezed out instead, "_Stop – frakking – teasing_."

"Is that an order, _sir?_" Kara's nimble fingers were now pulling down his fly.

He bit down on his lower lip until he drew blood. "It's – a respectful request."

"Hmm." She pretended contemplation, then leaned in close. "Are you _respectfully requesting_ that I frak you, Lee?"

He swallowed once. Twice. It didn't help; the sight of her leaning over him, a little flushed, Starbuck grin firmly in place, flight jacket half open, only increased his arousal. It was almost painful.

"Maybe," Lee managed. It came out as a croak.

"_Maybe?_" Kara laughed. "Well, I was going to help you out with your little, ah, _problem_, but maybe you don't want my help." She turned away from him, removed her flight jacket, started stripping off her tanks and bra. "_Maybe_ I'll have to keep these titties all to myself."

"Okayokayokay forget I said that," he said quickly. Suddenly his pants couldn't come down fast enough and after a few moments of desperate fumbling, Lee was ready. Ready so that when she turned back around, an erect cock was staring her in the face.

"Now that's better," she grinned approvingly.

And without another word she began to stroke him, slowly and deliberately, that same little smile on her face. Two of her fingers slid up the shaft of his cock, circled the head and slid back down, while Kara's other hand combed through the delicate curls of hair at his groin. This time Lee bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. She was just playing with him, no direction or point to her actions, and he couldn't remember precisely how many times he had envisioned her doing this.

"Kara … _frak_." Lee fought for control as she made a fist and palmed up and down, at first excruciatingly slowly, then with slight speed. His hand shot out and clasped over hers, feeling the rhythm of her strokes. She squeezed him and he pressed down, hard, with a long groan. "Ffffffffffrak," he whispered again.

"Enjoying ourselves, are we?" Kara was still smiling, and in the slightly orange glow cast through the curtain, he could see a light sheen of sweat over her cheeks. She tucked her hair behind her ears and cupped a breast with her right hand, almost as though showing it off. Lee didn't mind the demonstration, not one bit.

"You are – beautiful," he squeezed out. His breath was quickening.

"Stop it, I'm blushing," she wisecracked.

"I'm serious." The words came out in a hiss. "Lee Adama loves Kara Thrace."

Kara laughed and ran a finger over his sac. "Does he love her, or does he love her left hand?"

Lee gasped a little. "Both."

"Asshole. I figured as much." But it was said in jest, and she didn't stop; in fact, her pace was more rapid now. His hand was riding hers, applying just that slight extra pressure. He found her breasts, bouncing lightly with the rhythm, and then her eyes, sparkling with laughter but perfectly intent on the task at hand. Lords, he loved her.

"Lee Adama loves Kara Thrace," Lee repeated, not bothering to keep the adoration out of his tone.

Kara stopped for a moment to scrutinize his cock, now standing straight up his belly. A tiny, perfect drop of pre-come dotted the tip. Her gaze shifted to his face.

"Kara Thrace loves Lee Adama," she returned.

Then she leaned down and licked, from balls to head. Took him into her mouth and began, very gently, to suck. Her eyes never left his. _Frak, if I live to be a thousand I'll never get this image out of my head_, Lee thought before all the blood in his brain headed off for, apparently, an urgent appointment somewhere else.

Kara had him fully in her mouth now, her right hand clutching his left. Both were slippery and he couldn't tell whether she was sweating or he was. The air was tense and hot in the small space and it smelled like sex. It smelled like what he longed to do with her if he could. But Lee's mind was not focused on that. He knew precisely what the tight warmth in his belly signified and he wasn't ready for it, not yet.

"Stopunlessyouwantasurprise," he managed to gasp out.

"I like surprises," Kara grinned around his cock.

"Not – not this one. Kara, I …" _Not yet not yet not yet …_ "I want to be inside you when it happens. Please. Pleasepleaseplease."

"You're sweet when you beg." But she sat up, sat up and began stripping off her remaining clothing. Mercifully, he thought, because he knew he wouldn't have been able to last in her mouth whether he wanted to or not.

All the time, that radiant smile never left Kara's face. She was wearing it as she positioned herself over him and, inch by torturous inch, lowered herself down until his length was fully inside her. It remained as Lee's hands shot out to caress her hips, massage up her side and drift around to the front, cupping her breasts and tracing concentric circles around her nipples. It didn't waver as she began to move slowly, not breaking eye contact with him.

Their breath panted out in the semi-darkness, and the heat which had dissipated as soon as Kara took her mouth away reformed immediately. Reformed and kept growing, until even Lee's much-lauded self-restraint could not hold it back for much longer.

"Kara," he whispered, "Kara, Kara … 'm sorry, I can't … _soclose_ …"

Guilt was intruding again; Lee typically lavished attention on his partners, particularly Kara, and made sure they arrived first. Now he knew he had perhaps a minute at the outside, and felt badly for her.

Possibly she could see some of this in his eyes, for her smile turned uncharacteristically gentle. "Lee, it's okay. Really. Here. C'mere." And she looped her arms around his back and pulled him carefully upwards until their bodies touched, her breasts pressing into his chest and their legs locked around each other's hips.

Kara began to rock, backwards and forwards, slowly and tenuously. Lee's arms were pinned at his sides and for a moment he had no idea what to do with them. Then, abruptly, he realized she had given him an opening, and once again he slid his hands up her side, brushing his fingers against her ribs and grazing her breasts with his palms. Sliding until they were embracing each other and he could feel nothing but Kara, her skin against his and her heart pounding.

The heat was spreading, and spreading quickly now.

"Come on, Lee." Kara rocked faster, pressed a series of desperate kisses to his lips. "Come for me."

He buried his head in her chest, inhaled her scent, and finally gave himself permission.

***

Kara held Lee as he came.

Held him because she sensed it was what he needed. Held him because she knew, from the moment they entered the bunkroom, that all he wanted was to be close to her. He clearly thought she had died, and although she wasn't sure yet what _she_ believed, she also knew him well enough to understand that her death would kill him.

So she held on tightly and pressed her chin into his hair, feeling herself fill with his warm wet as he groaned and groaned.

She didn't even care that she hadn't also arrived. Not much, anyway. Kara understood from the way Lee was nestling into her that there would be other times.

"Kara," Lee whispered, and his voice cracked, and she could feel him starting to shake. "Kara, you're, you're – you're _home_."

She could have said something smart. _Starbuck_ would've said something smart. But they weren't Starbuck and Apollo right now.

They were Kara and Lee.

Friends. Partners. Lovers.

"I'm home," she echoed. Massaged his back. Kissed the top of his head.

"Kara," he whispered again, and she tried to think of another moment where he'd shown his emotions so completely. None came to mind. "I haven't … I haven't frakking _slept_ since you … left."

No one was quite sure what to call her disappearance, Kara had noticed. Clearly, she wasn't dead. But clearly, her Viper exploded. What _could_ it be called? Kara's Rebirth? Starbuck Returns from the Dead? The Case of the Reappearing Viper Pilot? She almost laughed aloud at the last one, but respect for Lee's feelings stopped her.

"Why?" she whispered.

"I was supposed to be your wingman!" he burst out, the change in his emotions palpable even though his face was still pressed into her chest. "I was supposed to protect you, not lose you. I was supposed to bring you home. I didn't do that."

"Lee –" Kara started, but he wouldn't let her speak. She had a feeling he'd been wanting to say these things for months.

"_You_ would've fought tooth and nail to save _me_." The words came out almost as a moan. "You _have_ fought tooth and nail to save me, you did in the very first attack and I don't know how many times since. But I couldn't do the same."

"Lee –"

"For my best friend. For the woman I _love_."

"Lee!" The sharpness in her tone causes him to look up, and she takes his chin in her hands. "Lee, look. You are talking to probably the most guilt-ridden person alive. I've got so many things to feel guilty about, it would take me a week to count them all. But trust me when I say that inventing _other_ things to feel guilty about doesn't help. Going through situations and trying to think of what you could've done differently, what you could've done better, when the situation is already resolved doesn't help anybody. I know you carry a lot of guilt inside you and hell, some of it is probably deserved. But don't make it a thousand times worse by taking the entire universe on your shoulders and trying to blame yourself for it being as frakked up as it is. Come on, Lee. You're smarter than that."

He blinked, apparently unable to decide whether to refute her statements.

"You told me once that what happened to Sam on Caprica, what happened to JoJo and the other nuggets, wasn't my fault," Kara pressed. "Why won't you believe yourself?"

Another blink. Lee swallowed, hard.

She took a deep breath. Played her trump card.

"Lee, I was responsible for Zak's death. I know that. And I've wondered … every day of my frakking _life_ since then … what I would do if I came face to face with him again. Would I run away? I'm good at that. You know I am. Would I apologize? Not so good at _that_. How could I make it up to him, how could I ever make it up to you, your family? But eventually I realized … if he landed on that flight deck tomorrow, none of that would matter. I don't think it would even matter if he was a frakking Cylon because you know what? He'd be home. He'd be here with us. I would still love him, I still _do_ love him. But guess what, he's dead, so I'm never going to get that second chance. But you, Lee …" Again Kara cupped his face. "Your second chance is sitting right in front of you. What are you going to do with it? Are you going to ignore it because of some phantom guilt complex or …"

She bent forwards, kissing him softly.

A smile ghosted across his lips and he pulled out slowly, startling her momentarily. She'd forgotten they were still connected in the most intimate of ways.

"You've changed, Kara."

It was not a criticism; merely an observation.

"Yeah well. Supposedly dying and then rematerializing can do funny things to a person."

Lee stared at the blanket for a moment, then grasped her hand again, lacing his fingers through hers. "Well, it's like I said before. You _did_ die and it was a little frakking disturbing for everyone."

She completed his sentence. "Especially you."

He bit his lip and squeezed her hand. "Especially me," he agreed. "Maybe that's why I need to believe you so much. Because the alternative … you can't die twice, Kara. I couldn't – well. You're right. I _do_ have a second chance."

Kara arched an eyebrow. "I'm _right_, am I? Can't remember the last time I heard Lee Adama say that. Lemme get a piece of paper, write down the date and the time."

Now Lee was smiling again, _really_ smiling the way she remembered he could. Really smiling, she figured, for the first time since her "death."

"Brat," he said. The smile grew wider.

"Tight-ass," she returned.

"Screw-up."

"Control freak."

He darted forwards suddenly and hugged her. Hugged her until she couldn't breathe, hugged her until shivers were coursing up her spine, hugged her as he had on the flight deck.

"You're back," Lee whispered.

"I'm back," she confirmed.

As he lay her down again, as they started to kiss once more, as she looked into his blue eyes, she thought: _I'm back._

And now I'm not afraid.


End file.
